


sing one for the old times

by couldaughter



Series: greatest hits [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, ok i know i'm sorry i just can't handle sad doomed ships, set sometime in s11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2194359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Church shimmered into existence by her shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that-”</p><p>“Shut up, Epsilon.” Carolina moved towards the bed slowly, carefully. A childish part of her was convinced that if she made too much noise the illusion would shatter into a million tiny pieces.</p><p>Gold armour gleamed dully in the filtered light. She reached forward and gently pulled off the soldier’s helmet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing one for the old times

The facility was practically deserted.

Carolina peered around the next corner, gun raised, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Church hovered in the air beside her.

“You know I can fucking detect enemy signals, right? You can hear me right now? I’m not just a floating sparkly plank of wood?”

“Shut _up_ , Church.” Carolina sent a withering look over her shoulder. “We just need to reach medbay, grab some supplies, and then leave. I can handle this.”

Church nodded, then faded back into her armour. 

Every corridor was clear. Carolina forced herself to remain alert - complacency would get her killed, and Epsil- _Church_ captured.

She cleared the last corridor before the medbay with anxiety rising in her chest. The door was fifteen feet away… ten feet… five…

The medbay wasn’t empty.

There were six beds along the bay walls, and while only one of them was occupied whoever was lying in it looked familiar. No. _No_. 

Church shimmered into existence by her shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that-”

“Shut up, Epsilon.” Carolina moved towards the bed slowly, carefully. A childish part of her was convinced that if she made too much noise the illusion would shatter into a million tiny pieces.

Gold armour gleamed dully in the filtered light. She reached forward and gently pulled off the soldier’s helmet.

“Oh.” The helmet fell from her suddenly unresponsive hands. It clattered to the floor but she barely noticed.

York hadn’t changed much in the years since Carolina had last seen him. There were a few more scars across his face, and his hair was streaked grey in a way that Carolina refused to call distinguished.

She took a step back, her heel catching the helmet and sending it spinning towards the wall. Fuck. York was _alive_. His chestplate had been removed and he was clearly breathing. Carolina slumped to the floor, hands gripping the edge of the bed tightly.

“Epsilon, can you confirm-” She stopped. Her throat felt like sandpaper.

Church flickered green for a moment. “Yeah. It’s him.” 

He was breathing. Carolina’s heartbeat grew to fill the room.

She picked him up in a bridal carry. He probably would’ve found that funny if he was awake. Probably be cracking jokes the whole walk out, even bleeding out or concussed - he’d done it before. York was always putting other people’s comfort before his own.

Carolina had thought getting into the facility would be the hard part of the mission, but leaving was proving both more difficult and more time consuming.

For one thing, York was fucking _heavy_. Even stripped of most of his armour and allowing for Carolina’s suit helping her, carrying him was exhausting. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of his continued existence.

Which she had a feeling she was going to find a lot harder to deal with when she stopped moving, so she didn’t. She couldn’t. She’d been running away for a lot longer than anyone knew - from Freelancer, from the Director, and especially from York.

Church materialised. “Look, Carolina-”

“Church, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m kinda really busy over here.” She shifted her grip around York’s torso. 

He rolled his eyes. She couldn’t see through his helmet, obviously, but she could feel it in her head. Fucking AIs. “No shit, Sherlock. What I was gonna say is- we can’t help him.”

Carolina shook her head. This wasn’t happening. “Bullshit.”

“No, seriously, we _don’t_ have the supplies for this. He’s in a goddamn _coma_ or some shit from what I can tell, and I’m a fucking computer, remember?. We’re- we’re gonna have to get back to the others. Get help.” Church shifted uncomfortably. Carolina suddenly remembered the first time York had been injured after implantation. Delta had seemed - off, afterwards. Almost like he had been worried.

She looked down at York’s face. She looked up at Church. “I- yes. Yes, okay, we’ll go find your friends.”

“They’re your friends too, y’know.” Church winked out.

Carolina stared at the empty space where he’d been. Fuck, he was annoying when he was right.

\---

“Soooo, this seems horrible.” Grif was leant against the doorframe of Red Base, which was made of cardboard and empty peanut butter jars.

Carolina glared at him. “Yeah, thanks for the input, Red.”

“Oh, how fucking original.” He sighed, uncrossed his arms and stretched. “D’ya need Doc, then? I’m assuming you need Doc. Because everyone else is literally fucking hopeless at medicine. Except maybe Wash, but that’s just because I’ve never seen him give first aid.”

The glare Carolina gave him was an answer in itself.

“Right, right, shutting up now. Jesus, tough crowd.” He ambled off, hopefully to fetch Doc, although Carolina wasn’t much inclined to hope in general.

She laid York down gently on the softest patch of grass she could find. After the crash, she had a feeling there wouldn’t be many medbay beds left intact.

He looked peaceful. She took one of his hands between both of hers.

Grif reappeared pretty quickly, considering Grif’s general work ethic and laid back attitude to life. Doc tutted over York, prodding various limbs and eventually pronouncing him healthy, besides the whole “we can’t wake him up” thing.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s in a coma. I mean, he just looks tired, y’know?”

“Yeah, numbnuts, we figured that out already. How do we get him awake?”

“Well…” Doc started, looking at Church in a slightly worrying way. “You could always do that thing. You know. The thing. That you do.”

Church paused. “Why the fuck didn’t _I_ think of that?”

“Because, no offence or anything, but you have no common sense. I have tons of it. Because of being the coolest medic around, and stuff.” Doc grinned. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t push it, dick.”

“It’s Doc, Church. Vowel sounds are important!” 

“I know your fucking name, Doc, now shut up and let me do my thing.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Doc gave him a thumbs up. Church shook his head, and jumped.

\---

“Ok, what the fuck happened in here.”

Church spun around, taking in the mess of a landscape he’d landed in.

“Epsilon?” 

He turned, slowly. “ _Delta_?”

Delta tilted his head. “Not quite. Just a memory of a fragment, if you will.”

“So, uh, what happened here? I’m assuming you know, being part of his head and all.”

“Stagnation.”

“So, what, he’s just been- trapped? In his head? _All this time_?” That sounded horrifying. No wonder the place was so dark, and cold. Church shivered. He hadn’t been able to feel the cold in years.

“Something like that, yes.”

Church frowned. “Well, he kinda needs to wake up now. We got some people who’d be really fucking happy to see him alive again”

“In that case, would be happy to assist you. Simply put, he does not want to wake up. Losing Agent Carolina disinclined him from that particular instinct.”

“Well,” said Church. “I guess I got some good news for him, then.”

\---

It took Grif, Simmons and Donut to move York onto the last remaining medbay bed. Carolina could’ve done it, but she didn’t want to let go of his hand.

“Where’s Washington?”

Simmons shrugged. “Wash? Oh, yeah, I think he’s trying to fix the radio tower? I don’t really know, Sarge keeps telling us not to talk to the Blues.”

“Well, can someone go and fucking get him?” Carolina was tense. She consciously relaxed her sudden death grip on York’s hand.

“Yeah, JEsus, no need to jump down our fucking throats about it.”

Simmons jogged away.

“Okay, now that’s settled,” Grif said, pulling off his helmet. “Who is this dude?”

“He’s a Freelancer. Was a Freelancer.”

Grif sighed, resigned. “Oh, great, another one of you psychos.”

“He died.” Carolina was trying very hard not to shout.

“Yeah, well, around here that’s more like a stubbed toe apparently. I mean, look at Church. Or _Donut_.”

Carolina didn’t even try to respond to him. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, until the sound of running footsteps signalled Simmons’ return.

“Hey, I got Wash for you. I gotta say, he took some convincing.”

“Thanks,” Carolina said quietly. “I can see that.”

Wash walked towards her slowly. She recognised what he was doing, because it was exactly what she’d done in the facility - walk forward cautiously, like you’re on cracking ice, because one wrong move could kill you.

As she watched him look down at York, he reached up and clicked open his helmet catches, and pulled it off. She hadn’t seen him without his helmet since before Project Freelancer. He looked tired.

“So, I guess this is really him?” His voice was calm and detached.

Carolina nodded. “If not, I think Church would’ve figured it out by now.”

“Huh.” Wash sat down heavily next to her, and rested his head on her shoulder. “I guess good things can happen to bad people, sometimes.”

\---

Church followed Delta through a maze of identical corridors. “You sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well, _of course_.”

He kept quiet for the rest of their journey. It took a lot more seemingly random twists and turns before Delta stopped them.

There was a door in front of them. It had a sign on it in large, childlike writing. KEEP OUT.

“Yeah, I’m ignoring that.” Church reached for the handle.

“I must leave you here, I’m afraid.” Delta started to fade out.

Church smiled faintly. “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

He stayed with his hand on the door long enough to see Delta disappear completely, and then he pushed it open.

The light was a little blinding after the miles of dim corridors.

“Uh, hello?” Church shielded his eyes with one hand. “Anyone there?”

Church squinted at the figures slowly coming into focus. They all looked like Freelancers, and he could have sworn he spotted someone in black armour at the back but- no. He had to focus on helping Carolina. He’d buried that particular memory a long time ago.

“Huh? Someone there?”

“Is that Agent York?” Church moved forward slowly.

York broke from the group and walked towards him. “Yeah? What do you need?”

“Well, it’s be pretty fucking neat if you woke up. There’s a few people who’d really appreciate it.”

“Am I asleep? Oh crap, did I miss an assignment? I swear, I keep sleeping through my alarms…” York ran a hand through his hair.

Church sighed. “No, dude, nothing like that. You’ve just been asleep for a really, _really_ long time, and I think Carolina is gonna rip my dick off if I don’t find someone else to distract her.”

“Carolina?” York looked confused. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

Church grinned. “I got some good news for you, buddy.”

\---

The sun was beginning to set when Church finally jumped back out of York’s armour. He stood on his own for a bit, looking at the horizon.

“He’ll come around soon. Sounded pretty excited about you being here.”

Carolina smiled. It felt foreign on her face. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty excited that he’s here. Even if we didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Wash turned to look at her. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think York holds grudges easily.”

“He was always stupid like that.”

“I resent that,” wheezed York. “I was always-” He stopped, coughing.

Carolina sat up so sharply that Wash nearly fell over. She pointed at Doc, who was stood a few feet away waving his medical scanner vaguely. “You. Get some water.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He ran off, and Carolina watched him go with some satisfaction.

After a moment, she looked back down at York’s face. He was smiling. “I see you can’t bear to tear yourself from my side.”

Carolina didn’t have a reply to that. She knew that, back in Project Freelancer, she would’ve said something sarcastic and then dropped it. But she also knew a lot more about herself than she had back then.

“No. I guess I can’t.” She squeezed his hand a little. “Don’t say anything.”

“Alright, boss.” He coughed again.

Wash nudged her with his elbow. She turned towards him. “ _What_.”

“I just wanted to remind you that there is a world outside of York’s eyes.” He grinned. It was a good look on him.

She smacked him on the back of the head. “Be thankful I didn’t shoot you for that, Agent Washington.” She didn’t stop smiling, though.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Doc got back with water. York drank some gratefully.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“No problemo, friend!” Doc saluted smartly, and left.

York raised his eyebrows. “Well, he seems nice.”

Carolina pulled Wash in by his arm. “Hey, can you leave for a minute. You can have bromance time later.”

He nodded, understanding, and wandered off in the general direction of Blue Base.

She turned back to York, who looked pale but was sat up and still breathing. Two good signs.

“So.” 

“So,” York replied. “How are things?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Well, no, but only because I’m saving myself for marriage.” He winked at her. Fuck, she’d missed him so much.

“You’re an asshole.” And with that, she leaned across and kissed him. It was pretty much everything she’d imagined it would be, when she’d let herself think about it.

He cupped a hand around her neck, gently. She wrapped both her arms around his shoulders.

Eventually they parted for air. Carolina rested her forehead against his.

“Glad to see you’ve seen the error of your ways,” said York with a self-satisfied grin. Carolina poked him in the ribs. He affected a look of utter despair, which lasted about ten seconds before he broke back into a grin. “With that outta the way, I guess now is a great time to ask: will you marry me?”

“What?”

“It’s only four words, princess. Don’t tell me you forgot how to speak English since I last saw you?”

Carolina glared at him. “When you last saw me I was trying to _kill you_.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re not trying to kill me _now_ and, well, carpe diem.” He leaned over and kissed her again.

After they broke apart, she raised an eyebrow. “You have no survival instincts. No wonder you needed Delta on the battlefield.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you really need an answer, yes. I will marry you. Eventually. When we’re not on a war torn planet on the edge of the galaxy.”

York punched the air. “You should know that if I could stand up right now I would totally be doing a victory dance. I spent the entire time I was comatose secretly planning one for this very moment.”

“You would.”

“We know each other too well, Carolina.” He grinned. “Wanna get to know me even better?”

"I already said I'd marry you, York. Don't push it."

**Author's Note:**

> i know, ok. i Know. i just literally could not bear the crushing sadness of this ship for a moment longer, so i wrote fix it fic and now i feel marginally better
> 
> blame goes to avery for enabling my rvb spiral and watching me watch the entire series in about two and a half days.
> 
> title is from transcendental youth by the mountain goats
> 
> tumblr @cpnmarvel, general rvb spiralling, some marvel, less adjectives


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